


Get a load of this train wreck

by Winter_Oswin



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Artist Steve Rogers, Awesome Peggy Carter, Awesome Wanda Maximoff, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Peggy Carter, Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Bucky Barnes & Wanda Maximoff Friendship, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Creepy Brock Rumlow, Domestic Violence, Drug Abuse, Drugged Sex, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Needs A Hug, Evil Alexander Pierce, F/F, F/M, Gaslighting, Heavy Angst, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Insecure Wade Wilson, M/M, Musician Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Panic Attacks, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter is a Little Shit, Prostitution, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Wade Wilson, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Wade Wilson Breaking the Fourth Wall, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, Wade Wilson is a Good Bro, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:15:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28924941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_Oswin/pseuds/Winter_Oswin
Summary: Bucky functions. That's about the best thing he can say for himself. He's succesfull, he has a relationship, sort of, he has a bunch of money and millions of people pay money to see him. Bucky functions, even if he doesn't see the point in it anymore.Steve is a mess. Nobody would dispute that. He's a lowlife, a hooker, the scum of the earth. He lives from moment to moment. He's fucked, but he's accustomed to it. No point trying to be something he isn't. Steve is a mess but he doesn't really care.Bucky functions and he's used to feeling numb. He's fine with it, until his first love hits on him on accident.Steve is a mess and he doesn't care who knows. He's fine with it, until the only boy he ever loved chases him down a dark alley.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Alexander Pierce, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Wade Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Wanda Maximoff, James "Bucky" Barnes/Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	1. Not like it wasn't Bucky's own fault

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this one's dark, but people who read my other stories know that already. I'll still repeat it, read the tags! I will put individual warnings in the notes of the chapters and mark especially triggering content in the text itself but please stay save!
> 
> Also, this is a reworked version of a fanfic of the same name I posted a few months ago in case anyone remembers it and thinks that this sounds familiar.

Bucky wasn't sure how he ended up like this. It was Saturday night, or Sunday morning, judging by his watch. 2 am. 6 hours ago he had played at Madison square garden, a full house, the end of his very first world tour.

He should be celebrating, he should be at the after show party with Wade and and the girls, getting drunk or high as a kite or just happy.

He was supposed to be fucking happy.

Instead he was storming down some random Brooklyn street, no clue where he was going. He hadn't been to Brooklyn in years, his whole life now seemed to take place in an ever changing carousel of tour buses, studios and hotel rooms. He hadn't even been to his apartment for longer than 10 minutes since they arrived in Manhattan, not that it was really a home or anything. No place had felt like home in a long time.

  
The night had gone like this. They had played the show, it was unreal, Bucky was on fire. Like he always was after a good show and this one hadn't just been good. It had been electrifying. Something that Bucky could only get from a performance or from a line of coke these days.

Not like it wasn't Bucky's own fault.

But with every high came a low and he soon found himself crashing down. He and Brock had taken a cab by themselves. Bucky wasn't feeling up to it, the party, the drinks, the drugs, Brock's hands on his body. They had started to fight, like they always did these days. Bucky would get vicious and Brock would take it up a notch until they were downright venomous.

Not like it wasn't Bucky's own fault.

Things got out of hand and there was nobody else there to stop them. Bucky had no other security with him, only Brock. He needed no one else. Brock didn't like anyone else watching out for Bucky. That's what he got for dating his bodyguard.

Not like it wasn't Bucky's own fault.

He told the driver to stop the car and then he just found himself running. It was mindless behaviour, the actions of a screwed up mess. That's what Brock would say once Bucky returned. He'd call him a mess and fucked up and then he'd say that he loved him anyways and then he'd kiss him and Bucky would pretend that every piece of his mind wasn't screaming at him to run away again. He had learned to ignore his instincts years ago. Sometimes he wasn't sure if he could even act on them anymore. 

Not tonight, though. Tonight Bucky ran. He got into a different cab and told them to drive, he turned his phone off so that no one would be able find him and that's how he got here.

The address he gave the driver was one that was etched into Bucky's mind like names on a gravestone. He had stared up at the old apartment complex for a solid 20 minutes. Just standing in the dark, staring at those brick walls that used to be his home.

He didn't think of them a lot these days, or at least he tried not to. He tried to banish every thought of Steve and his mother. He rarely succeeded. Everything about them was burned into Bucky's heart and soul.

Brock said that the death of his mother figure and his subsequent loss of Steve, was among other things the cause of Bucky's fucked-up-ness. He was more focused on Steve, though. Which was crazy to Bucky. It's almost like Brock was jealous of a ghost. He'd say that their relationship and the debilitating heart break that followed once it ended had broken Bucky beyond repair. Bucky was tempted to agree.

The truth was that there was no part of him that didn't wish that he could turn back the time to when they were sixteen. He'd give up the last 5 years, all his money and success, all of it, just to hold Steve in his arms again.

Bucky knew that Steve had been it. It being his Soulmate. Brock knew that, too and Bucky had no idea why Brock was still putting up with him despite that. It's like he was punishing both of them. Bucky for not loving him like he was supposed to and himself for not being able to fix Bucky. 

As he stood in front of those walls that used to harbour so much love and safety for him, now just as empty as everything else, he realized, for the hundredth time that there was no point in holding onto the past. And in an effort to let go of it he turned around and left.

Then it started to rain, because of course it did. And then he got lost, because he hadn't been here since he was 16 and the neighborhood had changed, had gotten more downtrodden than before, if that was even possible. Soon he found himself drenched, miserable and disoriented, wishing that he didn't feel so goddamn needy, wishing that he could call Wanda, Natasha, or Wade, hell, even Brock, without feeling like a massive burden.

Not like it wasn't Bucky's own fault.

That was always the issue. He got reckless and stupid for a second and then he would always realize how awfully reliant he was on others, how pathetic. Then he'd come crawling back.

Right now he couldn't bring himself to crawl back. Sure, he could've stopped another cab and have them take him to his apartment but sitting in that huge loft by himself sounded just as miserable as what he was doing right now. So he just continued to walk around aimlessly. Not that he had anything better to do.

It was cold, god-awfully cold and Bucky tried to move quickly to keep himself somewhat warm, even though the cold was seeping into his bones. He passed bars and shops that he considered going into just to feel warm for a second but he was by himself, no security and someone might recognize him and he really didn't want to put up with that right now.

So he just continued his way past people partying and people offering themselves to others. He had tunnel vision, not looking at anyone too closely, not giving anyone a reason to look at him too closely in return. The voices, the music, the noise of the rain and the passing by cars all blended together.

Then he heard it. "What's the rush, baby?" The voice shouldn't have stuck out to him. Not when there were several like him, men and women, luring in the dark, giving sultry looks to strangers, trying to seem alluring.

But something about that voice stuck out to Bucky and made him freeze on the spot, his heart skipping a beat. His mind didn't know it yet but his heart knew right away. Bucky would never forget Steve, not fully, not even after trying to do so for half a decade.

He turned on his heels, his eyes searching for the source of the voice and there he was. Standing under the canopy of some bar, just barely protected from the rain, only dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a cropped top.

He was taller which confused Bucky for a second. Steve used to be tiny, scrawny, sickly. That seemed to not be the case anymore. He was still pretty skinny but Bucky could see that his bones were now covered by a new layer of muscle and he had to have hit a growth spurt because he was at least a head taller than Bucky remembered. In his mind Steve was still smaller than him. Not anymore. But his face was recognizable, in a somehow twisted way. Blue eyes, framed in black now, but still more familiar than Bucky's own, sharp cheekbones that had somehow turned even sharper and dirty blond hair, cut unevenly, spiked up and messy.

"Steve?", Bucky breathed out, his voice catching in his throat. He watched the realization of who he had just hit on dawn on Steve. The sultry act fell like a mask and suddenly he was just staring at Bucky with wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights. Then, before Bucky could say anything else, Steve took off.

And fuck, he was fast. The Steve Bucky remembered had been an asthmatic and couldn't jog around the block without hacking up a lung. Apparently he had grown out of that, too. Still, Bucky went to the gym pretty much every day and Steve looked like he was on the brink of starvation. He didn't stand a chance.

He caught up with him in a dark alley. Bucky reached out, grabbing Steve by his shoulder and calling out his name. "Steve! Stop! Please!", Bucky yelled over the sound of the rain.

Steve turned around reluctantly and Bucky could see that his chest was heaving, his eyes looking around frantically, he seemed to struggle for each breath. He seemed to be on the brink of a asthma attack. "Hey, hey, everything's okay...Where is your inhaler?", he babbled, letting go of Steve who immediately stumbled a few steps away.

Bucky felt useless, he had no idea how to help but Steve seemed to manage it by himself. It was painful to watch. He sank to the ground, just sitting there as it still poured, forcing himself to take one agonizingly slow breath after the other, not using an inhaler. Was it asthma or was he witnessing a panic attack, Bucky couldn't tell. He didn't step closer, not when Steve seemed so distressed. Finally after several minutes his breathing returned to something more normal. He raised his head, looking up at Bucky, his wet hair stuck to his forehead and his eyeliner was smudged, running down his cheeks.

"What do you want?", he asked and there was such a harsh edge to his voice that it made Bucky's heart bleed.

For a moment he thought that maybe Steve didn't recognize him, so he crouched down until their eyes were on the same level, but he didn't get closer, not yet. "It's me- Bucky.", he said but Steve barely reacted.

"I know that. What do you want?", he asked instead and Bucky didn't understand. He didn't understand fucking anything that was going on.

"Steve it's me, I- I haven't seen you in years- I- I want to talk to you- I want-", he wasn't even sure what he was saying or thinking. This was Steve, his soulmate, the love of his stupid young life, and he was looking at Bucky like he was an absolute fucking stranger.

Steve shook his head, getting back up to his feet, he stroked his wet hair out of his face as Bucky straightened up as well. Then he looked at Bucky, with his too empty eyes and said the most horrifying thing Bucky could've imagined. "I cost 50 bucks the hour, 20 for a quick one right here and 200 for the whole night.", his voice was so toneless, it caused shivers to run down Bucky's spine. What the fuck was going on here?

"Steve- Fuck- is that what you think I want-? Is that- can we please just talk-", he pleaded.

"I have to work.", Steve only stated. Like Bucky was just some fucking guy. He already turned away and panic spiked inside Bucky.

"Wait! I'll pay, the whole night. Just come with me please." Bucky needed to get Steve out of here, somewhere he could actually see him, somewhere dry and quiet where he could try to figure out what the hell had happened to his best friend.

Steve gave him a long look and Bucky could see a switch, could see a light go out behind his eyes and then he nodded. This time Bucky didn't think twice about taking a cab home. He stopped the first one he saw and for second he worried that Steve wouldn't come but he followed him like an obedient puppy. It worried Bucky.

The cab driver gave them a strange look and while Bucky understood that they were a very strange pair, he also couldn't be bothered. His mind only spun around, _Steve, Steve, Steve_. Who was sitting next to him, shivering with hunched shoulders and lowered eyes. It took Bucky a moment to realize this but Steve was scared and that thought alone was so outlandish and awful at the same time that Bucky just found himself stunned by it.

It took a while to get to his apartment all the way in Manhattan. Long agonizing minutes that they spend in silence. Bucky had so many questions but he also couldn't bare looking at Steve when he was this fucking terrified. What was he scared of? Of Bucky?

When they arrived he paid the driver and lead Steve into the building. They took the elevator upstairs to his loft. Once they stepped foot inside Steve froze up. "What do you want me to do?", he asked and it made Bucky's skin crawl.

"You- you could shower, if you want, you must be cold.", Bucky tried weakly, Steve was trembling, it was october for fucks sake and he was barely wearing a shirt.

Steve didn't move, didn't even look at Bucky, so Bucky tried again. "I'll change into something dry as well. You can have a shirt and sweats from me if you want, and the shower is right there." He pointed at the bathroom door. "I'll leave clothes outside the door. Okay?"

  
Steve nodded, slowly, like he wasn't really registering Bucky's words. Then he enter the bathroom, pulling the door shut but not locking it.

Bucky let out a breath that he didn't notice he was holding. "Fuck...", he whispered under his breath before making his way to his bedroom. His luggage still stood in the middle of his bedroom, unopened. He took the first suitcase he could get his hands on and threw it on the bed before opening it up. He pulled out two pairs of sweats and two shirts. Then he took a towel out if his closet, taking his drenched clothes of and drying himself before changing.

The whole time he tried to only focus on what he was doing, not letting his emotions interfere. Only once he changed, only once he placed the stack of clothes on the floor outside the bathroom, only once he was back in his bedroom did he allow himself to crack.

Not break, no. He couldn't afford to break right now. But crack, just a little. Steve was here, in his apartment. Here. Real. And he was...not okay. Even for Bucky's standards which were pretty low, Steve seemed...beaten down. Which was very unlike the boy Bucky remembered.

Steve used to be a righteous spitfire, with a heart that was too big for his body. He was loud but he had to be so that people wouldn't overlook him. He'd make sure that they wouldn't. The man he saw in the alley wasn't like that. This Steve just seemed...small. Docile and void and so unlike the person Bucky remembered.

It made Bucky's chest tight, it made it hard to breath and for a moment he had to brace himself against the door, his head lowered as he took one shaky breath after the other, trying to push past the burning in his eyes. He couldn't step out there looking like he had cried, no matter how much he felt like sobbing right now.

So he pushed the tears down and forced himself to calm down. One deep breath, a second, a third, then he stepped out again and froze. Steve was waiting in front of the door.

~

Steve shouldn't have gone out that night. He should've stayed at home with Peter but he hadn't made rent yet and the month was coming to a close so he forced himself out there.

He shouldn't have hit on the tall guy in the trench coat with the raven hair either. He was in a rush and clearly didn't want to be disturbed. But he did it anyways and of course it turned out to be Bucky Barnes, the absolute last person Steve wanted to be seen by.

Steve should've recognized him immediately. He used to know every inch of Bucky's body by heart, every movement, every nuance of his voice. But 5 years of sepperation and sorrow had clouded his memories. But once he saw his face it was over for Steve. Those stormy gray eyes, rosy lips, chisled face. Even soaked and horrified Bucky still managed to take Steve's breath away.

He shouldn't have gone home with Bucky. But he was wet and cold and it had been a long day. Going home with Bucky seemed infinitely more compelling than doing it with some random stranger in their car. And fuck, Steve had missed him, not that he would've been able to admit that.

So that's how Steve ended up in Bucky's bathroom. He slumped against the door, his body was trembling. Breathing was difficult. His mind spun in circles.

Realistically he assumed that everything was fine. Or not completely catastrophical at least. Bucky wasn't a violent person. He never lashed out, especially not physically. Or at least he didn't use to 5 years ago.

Steve had always been the raging fire in their friendship, he burned out until nothing was left, hurting everyone around him. Bucky wasn't like him, at least he didn't used to be.

Rationally he knew that Bucky was just as distressed about their encounter as Steve was. Rationally he knew that Bucky wouldn't kick the door in and attack him. But Steve didn't know what was going on and in his line of work that ment that something was going terribly wrong.

It was difficult to shake those instincts, that fear that was beaten into him by brutal and harsh experiences.

In the best case scenario not knowing what was happening just left him with no money and feeling sore for the next few days. In the worst case...Steve tried to avoid thinking about the worst case.

The bottom line was this. Steve was panicking and he found himself pathetic. He grit his teeth and forced his breathing to calm down. He had been through far worse without freaking out this way, there was literally no reason to loose it right now.

That's what he told himself over and over again before he went straight for the shower. He needed to do something to get himself out of his own head and letting hot water wash over him felt like as good of an idea as any other. And fuck, Bucky's shower was amazing. Steve hadn't even realized how cold he had been, how numb, until the hot stream of water engulfed him. He was melting, all his tension fading. The grime of the day, the sweat, spit and god knows what else that had clung to his skin all day washed away.

He wished that he could stay like this forever. But Bucky was probably waiting and he was paying Steve to be here so Steve should have the common fucking decency to not hide away in the shower all night.

He stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. As promised Bucky had placed clothes outside the bathroom for Steve. A shirt and sweatpants. Bucky had always been much bigger than Steve and when Steve used to wear Bucky's clothes he looked like he was drowning in the fabric. Now he wasn't quite as small anymore and while he still wasn't as broad as Bucky he was definitely taller, so much so that his sweats were a little short on Steve. The shirt was still big on him, though.

It was a strange, familiar feeling, but there was something soft about it, something gentle. He held on to that, as he stood in the hallway of Bucky's apartment, waiting. Once there was a version of Steve that Bucky had loved. That version was long gone and Bucky probably changed as well. But the memory of who they used to be, and what they ment to each other remained.

It warmed Steve just enough to keep him from fleeing from the apartment and never looking back.


	2. Warning Signs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'll put up a warning for domestic abuse and dub/non-con in this chapter so watch out for that but it isn't graphic at all.
> 
> Also, thank you for your comments and kudos! Keep them coming, I love hearing your thoughts on this story!

Bucky looked a little startled when he first saw Steve in front of his bedroom door but he quickly caught himself.

"Hey, do you feel better? ", He asked, before stepping back inside for a moment, grabbing a few things and closing the door behind him.

In the bright light Steve could see even better how fucking beautiful Bucky was. He had always been gorgeous but now... He had grown up some more, all his boyish softness was gone, replaced my chiseled muscles that were covered in tattoos. It was intimidating and foreign.

"Yeah, thanks. ", Steve nodded awkwardly. He did feel a little better after the shower but his anxiety was just building up with every second that he didn't know what was going on.

"Your place is amazing. ", Steve then said to fill their awkward silence. In reality he had barely registered anything about Bucky's place except that it was big and had a great shower. But it seemed like something save to say.

"Yeah, thanks. ", Bucky replied, looking around self-consciously before noticing that he just repeated what Steve just said. His eyes found Steve's and they both chuckled nervously.

Steve was so goddamn uncomfortable. He had no idea how to talk to Bucky anymore, he had no idea what he was supposed to do or say, he was completely in the dark which made his skin crawl.

"So...What do you want me to do?", He asked Bucky, trying to rip off the band aid quickly. Bucky gave him a puzzled look, cocking his head to one side. "I mean... You paid for the whole night, I wouldn't want to rip you off.", Steve elaborated. He smiled, trying to go for levity, trying to be seductive, but he could tell that he was failing. He couldn't do that with Bucky. Not him.

Bucky didn't seem comfortable with Steve's clumsy attempts at seduction either. His puzzled expression quickly turned alarmed and then into something that Steve read as disgust. "Steve- Jesus... I don't- I didn't-", Bucky stammered, shaking his head. He tried to take a step back but he was already leaning against the door so he shuffled to the side instead, putting space between Steve and him. Steve was used to feeling filthy but he'd be lying if he said that that didn't hurt.

"Oh...Oh sorry, yeah. I mean, I don't know why I'd think you'd be interested-", he stuttered, trying to play it off but he knew that he wasn't fooling anyone. Least of all Bucky who used to be able to read him like an open book.

"No, that's not- ", Bucky protested before cutting himself off. "I am- Steve, I'm not paying you to fuck me.", He finally said and Steve didn't know what to do with this, he didn't know where to go from here because Bucky was paying for the night so Steve should be working but with every passing second he only seemed more distressed.

"Normally people prefer to fuck me-", Steve clarified but that only got Bucky to pull a face and hide behind his hands.

"Well, not that either.", He mumbled under his breath but Steve heard him.

"What do you want then?", Steve asked and he didn't intend for his voice to sound so sharp but he was stressed, too. Stressed, confused and scared. Because he was in Bucky Barnes' apartment, the Bucky Barnes he grew up loving. But it was like he had no idea who he was anymore and that just felt wrong.

Bucky rubbed his face before looking at Steve. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles, Steve realized. He looked tired which was a weird look on him. He hadn't noticed it before, too blinded by Bucky's... physique. "I want a drink.", Bucky stated, his voice hollow. Then he turned around and walked off.

Steve followed him, assuming that that's what was expected. Bucky walked to his gigantic kitchen. It was modern, clean, cold and looked like it hadn't been used even once. Over all, Bucky's place kind of looked like a display. Like nobody lived here.

"You can sit down if you want. ", Bucky mumbled gesturing towards the stools next to the kitchen island. Steve did as he was told while Bucky walked over to a counter where he then took out his phone and a charger. Then he went to his fridge. When he opened it Steve was surprised to see that it was mainly filled with bottles. "Can I offer you anything? Wine? Whiskey? Vodka? ", Bucky asked, standing in front of the open fridge.

"I'll have a water if that's okay with you. ", Steve replied. He thought that being intoxicated would just make everything even more confusing.

Bucky shrugged at that request before getting two glasses out of a nearby cabinet and filling one with water and the other with whiskey. He then brought both over to the kitchen island where he handed Steve his drink before taking a big gulp of his own.

Steve watched him closely, expecting him to set the glass down but Bucky just continued to drink until the glass was empty. That should've been the first warning sign. Bucky didn't used to drink. And sure, they were 16 the last time they saw each other but he used to be actively repulsed by alcohol.

When Bucky finally sat down the glass and looked at Steve again, his eyes were glassy, his mouth slightly agape. "This is incredibly awkward. ", He then stated and Steve couldn't help but to smirk.

"Yup, you could say that. ", Steve nodded, taking a careful sip of his water.

Bucky only continued to stare at him, bracing himself against the kitchen island.

"I thought I'd never see you again. ", Steve then said and his voice cracked when he did. He couldn't hold it back anymore.

"Well, I wasn't the one to disappear.", Bucky mumbled under his breath but of course Steve heard him.

Steve should have seen this coming, after all, he had been the one to leave, not that he had any say in that. Still, the blame in Bucky's tone hurt. It told Steve what he already knew, that Bucky made him responsible for how things turned out. "I didn't fucking disappear.", Steve all but spat even though he had shivers running down his spine. He couldn't help it, his temper got the best of him.

"Yeah but you didn't return my calls either. ",Bucky pointed out, sounding bitter and sharp. It made Steve's skin crawl.

"It's not like I wanted us to seperate.", Steve spoke through gritted teeth. He was aware that he was being bitter and petty. This was 5 years ago. He should be over it. But he wasn't.

5 years ago Steve's mother died and because he was only 16 at the time and didn't have any family in New York he was send to live with his grandparents in Mississippi. Steve resisted that move vehemently, even going so far that he stopped by Bucky's house the night before he left to beg him to run away with him.

Bucky said no. He told Steve that it wasn't smart, that they'd be fucked on their own. He told him that they could just wait, wait until they were both 18 and do long distance until then. A part of Steve believed him, believed that they could make it. Or maybe he just wanted to believe him, wanted to hold on to the last thing that tied him to his home and childhood.

That was the last time he spoke to Bucky. He didn't cut him off on purpose, he tried to reach him. The one time he got his hands on a phone he only reached Bucky's mom and she told him Bucky wasn't home. When Steve actually managed to return to New York he once again only met his mother who told him that Bucky was gone, that he had left a few months after Steve and that she hadn't seen him since. That had been it. Steve couldn't find him. At least until two years later when he saw Bucky on the magazine cover of the Rolling Stone.

Bucky had been _it_ for Steve. The love of his life. His soulmate. Not that he still believed in stuff like that. And he always thought Bucky felt the same, when he was younger he knew it. But once he found out what Bucky had been up to... Steve couldn't face him. Too much had changed, too much in him had broken and he saw this perfect man, grinning at him from a magazine cover. That man had the world at his feet. Steve couldn't imagine a man like that still loving him, or even tolerating him. Not after what Steve had let himself become.

Bucky stared at him and then he pushed himself away from the kitchen island, turning his back on Steve and running his hands through his hair.

"Sorry...That wasn't fair-", Steve quickly corrected himself. It wasn't like Bucky to explode with rage but then again, none of this was like Bucky and Steve was really scared that he had crossed a line.

Bucky turned back around and Steve braced himself for anger. He wasn't prepared for the tears running down Bucky's face. "I thought you'd call- I thought- I thought we could make it work. I spend months waiting for a single word from you. I thought you'd give a fuck!",Bucky admitted, his voice thick with emotion and cracking under the weight of it.

Here's the thing. Steve could understand Bucky's rage, even if he was surprised by it. Steve had convinced himself that Bucky had moved on, that Steve didn't matter to him anymore. And a part of him believed that he deserved it. Because even if he didn't have a choice, for Bucky it must've looked like he cut him off. He was about to say something, he wanted to explain himself, but then Bucky's phone started to ring.

Bucky didn't react, like he didn't even hear it, he just stared at Steve until Steve pointed towards the phone. "Your phone is blowing up. ", Steve said and Bucky pulled a face, looking over at it.

He seemed to debate if he should pick it up but eventually he walked over and pressed accept. "What?!", He greeted sharply.

Steve could hear a female voice on the other side of the line but he couldn't make out her words.

"I'm fucking fine.", Bucky said, rolling with his eyes. The woman was back to talking, she sounded upset. Bucky just looked annoyed.

"No I just freaked out and pissed off. ", He groaned.

The woman said something and Bucky reached into his hair, pulling at it.

"Because that's what I'm like.", He replied to whatever her question had been. Then he stayed silent for a while, listening to the woman. His hand started to become more frantic and he started to yank at his hair. He didn't even seem to notice that he was doing it. That should've been the second warning sign.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm fine. You can call off the search troops. Bye. ", He eventually finished before promptly ending the call and dropping the phone back on the counter.

"One of your band mates? ", Steve asked. It was a baseless guess, he was just trying to fill the silence. Bucky had stopped crying, but he seemed even more stressed out now.

"Yeah, Natasha...", He sighed before taking a third glass out of the cupboard and filling it with water for himself.

Ahhh...Natasha. The pianist of Bucky's band The Winter Soldiers and his ex-girlfriend.

It's not that Steve actively stalked Bucky's love live once he got famous. No. But their relationship was all over the tabloids. They were _the_ powercouple for about six months when The Winter Soldiers were just up and coming. And maybe Steve hated her guts and maybe he still held a grudge against her after they broke up. He knew that he was being ridiculously jealous but he couldn't help it. Natasha Romanoff was beautiful, talented, successful. All the things that Steve wasn't and on top of that she was dating the guy Steve was still in love with.

"So you know what I've been up to?", Bucky asked. Steve wasn't sure if it was supposed to but it sounded like an accusation.

"Are you kidding? It's pretty much impossible to not see you wherever I go.", Steve replied, trying to repress the bitterness in his tone.

"Then why didn't you reach out?", Bucky asked and he looked actually confused. Like it wasn't obvious why Steve didn't just drop by one day.

"What? You expect me to walk into your record label and demand to speak to the front man of their most successful band? Me?", Steve smirked, his tone sarcastic but Bucky remained completely serious.

"My label knows about you.", He then claimed and Steve wouldn't lie, he hadn't expected that.

"They what?", He asked.

"Know about you.", Bucky repeated. "Vaguely. My management knows that if a Steve Rogers ever tries to contact me, I need to know immediately. ", He then added, looking almost embarrassed. Steve couldn't comprehend it. He had assumed that he had become nothing more than a faded memory in Bucky's mind. Bucky's life was on such a different plain than Steve's, the idea that Bucky still thought about him and actively told people about him was ludicrous.

Still, that didn't change the circumstances of why Steve hadn't contacted Bucky. "Bucky... What would I have said? You see what I've become... I couldn't- ", he tried to explain the obvious but in the end his voice just broke off and he dropped his face into his hands.

Bucky stayed silent for a while. He only spoke up once Steve looked up at him again. "I wouldn't have cared. I still don't care. ",He said, his voice quiet, soft but strikingly genuine. Steve believed him, which hurt more than if it had been a lie. Because that ment that Steve had stood in his own way.

He didn't know what to say. He didn't have to say anything. The phone started to ring again, pulling Bucky's attention away from Steve.

He checked the caller ID before pulling a face. "Fuck. ", He whispered.

"Someone important?", Steve asked.

"Yes.", Bucky nodded before disconnecting the phone from the charger. But instead of picking up the phone call he just dropped it into his glass of water where it promptly stopped ringing.

Steve stared at him, his mouth agape but Bucky acted like this was completely normal and simply got himself a new glass before sitting down a few stools away from Steve.

"How did we end up here?", Steve then mumbled under his breath. It wasn't really a question, he knew exactly how he had ended up here. It had been a cruel but clear succession of events. But he still couldn't grasp how he and Bucky, the person he used to love more than anything, ended up in such different places.

"Well...Why don't you start with why you didn't call me back in the first place? Before... Whatever happened to you... Happened.", Bucky asked in return. Steve figured that he'd have to explain himself eventually. That didn't mean that he was ready. His throat felt tight, like it was swelling shut. Like the past was choking his every breath away, and his words with it.

"They took my phone away and they fucking didn't even have a landline.",He finally stated, looking at Bucky again. Steve could hear how rough his own voice sounded, how choked up. "Homeschooling, working on the farm, repenting for your sins... I'm telling you, they were that type of religious. I didn't interact with anyone except them and the people from their congregation. It was all pretty culty, to be honest. And you can imagine how thrilled they were about my sexual orientation.", He added and the smile and on his lips felt like a grimace. He couldn't drop it, though. If he didn't smile he might start screaming or sobbing and both of those weren't options right now. So Steve diverted his eyes, looking straight ahead. He took a gulp of his water, tried to wash away the venom that was creeping up his throat.

"Shit...", Bucky breathed out, the expression on his face was horrified. Steve wished that he could tell what he was thinking. If he was pitying him, if he still blamed Steve for not reaching out, if he cared at all. But he couldn't. Too much time had passed, Bucky's mind was as much of a riddle as his life.

"Yeah...It sucked. I took off after a couple of months. Took me weeks to get back home. When I did your mom told me that you were gone. ", Steve continued to explain and he couldn't keep the bitterness at bay anymore, the venom started to spill from his lips, revealing how rotten he was inside. "Now it's your turn. ", Steve then said. He was done talking about himself. He normally didn't touch that stuff with a ten foot pole. He had already gone way past his comfort line.

"I feel like you haven't told me everything.", Bucky returned. He was right, of course. Steve was glossing over a whole lot but he just wasn't ready to bare all of his soul yet. He couldn't lay it open like that, he had spend too much time burying it all.

"No shit. It's been 5 years. ", Steve chuckled, ending the topic there. Bucky seemed to realize that he wouldn't get anything more from Steve, at least not right now.

"Mom kicked me out. She got a new guy that wasn't too fond of me.",Bucky confessed and Steve glanced up at him, his expression stricken.

"Shit.",he cursed softly and Steve hoped that Bucky could tell that his shock was real. Bucky never got along with his mother. His mom wasn't like Sarah. She wasn't the caring type. She never planned on having Bucky, he just kind of happened to her and she let him know that. She blamed him for everything she missed out on and mostly just tolerated his presence. Steve knew that. Both him and his mother Sarah had been aware of that. She made it a point to treat Bucky like he was her son, too. But still, Steve wouldn't have expected Bucky's mom to kick him out. 

"Yeah...I'm sorry. I should've run when you asked me to. Might've saved us alot of time. ", Bucky admitted before pausing for a moment. Steve's great skipped a beat.

"Anyways,not long after that I met Alex and you know what happens next. ",He shrugged. Yes, Steve knew. Alexander Pierce of HYDRA-Records discovered Bucky and found a band for him that was missing a frontman. They published their first album which debuted at no. 10 on the billboard 200, then their second one that got no. 1. They went on sold out tours all across the country and then on their first worldtour. No, Steve was not obsessed with reading every article that even mentioned Bucky.

They both lapsed into silence after that, just drinking their water side by side. Bucky's leg was jiggling nervously which in turn made Steve anxious. In the end he was the one to break the silence first.

"Bucky...What do you expect from me now?", He asked. Because even though he was pretty sure that Bucky wasn't interested in him sexually anymore, he still didn't know what he was supposed to do now.

"I told you, I'm not paying you for-", Bucky started to groan but Steve cut him off.

"No. That's not what I mean. I get it, you don't want to fuck, you're over it. But you paid for the night. I'm gonna stay if you want me to. But what do you want to happen then?", he asked.

Bucky didn't answer for a while. He didn't look at Steve either. For a moment he even thought that Bucky was ignoring the question. Then, so quietly that Steve almost missed it:"I want you to stay. "

"What?",Steve asked because he was sure that he had misheard that. It didn't make sense to him, why would Bucky want him to stay around?

Bucky lifted his head and finally looked at Steve again, his expression open and honest. "I don't want you to leave.", He said and it sounded like a confession. It also sounded like it caused him pain. That should've been the third warning sign.

But Steve was too blinded by the implications of what Bucky was saying to wonder why this confession seemed to cost Bucky so much. His heart-rate picked up. He didn't dare believe what that might mean.

"What do you mean-", he went to ask because he had to know for sure but then he heard a door open and close outside the kitchen and froze. "Was that the front door?", He then asked, looking to Bucky who looked fucking terrified. That was the final warning sign.

"Fuck-", he whispered before a loud booming voice called from the hallway.

"James!"

"Who is that?", Steve asked and now he was whispering too. Steve knew that something was definitely wrong here. Because Bucky didn't behave like this. His shoulders were drawn up to his ears, he was shaking and breathing heavily. He looked fucking scared and Steve didn't know what to do because Bucky didn't get scared, he wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything, especially not in his own home.

"Unfortunately that's my bodyguard. ", he whispered, staring at the door and then at Steve, his eyes wide with fear.

"Jamie?! A little birdy told me that you're home! You didn't think that our conversation was over, did you?", the man yelled from the hallway. Steve knew of him, vaguely. There wasn't much known about him, Steve didn't even know his name. Only that he was Bucky's bodyguard and had been for years. Right now Bucky didn't seem like he felt safe because of his presence.

Bucky seemed to wake up from his frozen state and got off the stool, taking one of Steve's hands and pulling him towards the wall next to the door so that they weren't visible from the hallway.

"We need to get you out of here, or-", Bucky whispered frantically.

"Or what? ", Steve asked, not attempting to conceal how freaked out he was. _What the hell was going on here?_

"Or we're both fucking dead.", Bucky replied and it was disturbing how easily those words left his lips while still sounding completely serious.

Steve stared at Bucky who closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking at Steve again. "Okay, stay in here, I'll distract him. Don't come out until you hear the bedroom door close. Then leave.", He ordered, his voice a little steadier.

"Bucky-",Steve protested. He didn't like where this was going. Bucky was seemingly scared of his bodyguard, which made no sense to Steve but he definitely didn't want to leave him alone with him.

Bucky seemed to misinterpret his protest completely because he pulled his wallet out of the pocket of his sweats. "Oh, right. Here. ",He said, pressing a bundle of bills into Steve's hand.

"That's- that's not what I-", Steve stammered but Bucky wasn't even listing to him anymore.

He was looking to the door, bracing himself for whatever he was about to do. Then he glanced back at Steve and he was looking so fucking desperate that it made Steve's heart ache. "Whatever you hear- don't come out, okay?", He pleaded and as much as Steve wanted to protest, he couldn't. Not when Bucky was begging him to stay hidden. So he nodded and Bucky had the audacity to smile.

And then he left the kitchen.

"Brock.",Steve heard Bucky say and his voice suddenly sounded completely neutral but also fake as fuck.

"There you are, Jamie. Where did you run off to?", the man, apparently his name was Brock, asked, his voice sickly sweet. He sounded menacing. Steve knew that tone from countless men that had used him over the years. It made his heart pound and his body shake.

"You know me, just needed to clear my mind a little. ", Bucky replied, his tone apologetic and self deprecating.

"You embarrassed me. You always do this, you know?", Brock asked, his tone less sweet and more poisonous now. Then Steve heard a harsh slapping sound that made him flinch. Bucky hissed in pain and Steve was fucking paralyzed with fear.

"Fucking look at me when I speak to you!", Brock barked and even Steve felt the urge to follow his orders.

"I'm sorry. ", Bucky said, his voice hoarse and faint. Steve felt like he was dreaming because none of this message and fucking sense! So it must be a fever dream, right?!

"Oh...You're sorry, James? You think I believe that? ",The other man snarled and then there was another slap and Steve ordered his body to do something, to stop him. But he couldn't fucking move, not when years of painfully brutal experience told him not to.

"I'm sorry... I won't do it again. ", Bucky whimpered and he sounded like a fucking stranger.

"I fucking hope so or do you want me to have a talk with Alex again? Tell him that you can't handle yourself? ", The bodyguard asked, his voice threatening. Steve heard a thump like a body getting pushed against a wall.

"No...",Bucky whined and this was all so fucking wrong but Steve couldn't do anything about it, he was frozen solid, couldn't breath, couldn't move, couldn't do anything but listen while his mind tried to make sense of this senseless mess.

"You're so fucked up Jamie... I don't know why I still put up with you...",the older man went on, his voice back to being sweet. It made Steve sick but in a new way. Because now Brock almost sounded... flirtatious? But in a twisted and menacing way. In a way that was so wrong that it made bile rise in Steve's throat. "No wonder your Steve ran off, probably got sick of you. ", He added and to hear his name come out of that man's mouth was rattling because it ment that Bucky hadn't been lying. That he had searched for Steve, that he had told people about him.

"I'll do better. Let me do better.", Bucky pleaded, his voice desperate. He didn't sound like himself. Steve had no idea who that man was.

"We'll see... Now that we've talked about this, how are you gonna make it up to me?", Brock asked and Steve had heard things like that in the past. He knew what happened next even if he couldn't comprehend it.

"I can make it up to you- I can be good- Do what you want, I'll make it good-", Bucky replied, his voice turning breathless, needy. Their voices stopped and Steve was pretty sure that they were making out now. He could hear both of their steps, then a door opened and then it slammed shut.

Steve stayed in the kitchen for a while longer, making sure that they weren't coming out of the bedroom anytime soon. Then he snuck his way over to the door as quickly as possible. With a shock he realized that his dirty shoes stood by the door where the other man might've seen them but it was too late to change anything about that so he just grabbed them and left the apartment, closing the door as quietly aspossible. Then he ran to the elevator and only once he was inside he took the time to put on his shoes and reflect on what had just happened.

He was standing in Bucky's apartment building, wearing Bucky's clothes with a bundle of bills that turned out to be over 500$, while Bucky was probably getting fucked by his bodyguard who he was terrified of.

"What the actual fuck...", Steve whispered to himself.


	3. James fucking Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A warning for a short mention of past non-con and implied alcoholism and abuse.
> 
> This one got pretty long and I hope you'll enjoy it and leave a comment, nothing motivates me more.

Steve didn't know what to do with himself the next couple of days. Bucky inhabited his mind like he hadn't had in a long time. Before Steve used to be able to keep his obsessive mind at bay, push the memories away. He had gotten to the point where he only thought about Bucky when he was at his lowest, at his most desperate. He'd grant himself to dwell on the good old days, which inevitably led him to think about how it had all ended and about everything that came after. And then he'd regret thinking of him at all and swear to never to it again. Of course it only lasted until he felt devastated again, or until Bucky's face stared at him from a poster or a music video or a magazine cover, whichever came first.

Not now though. Now all that Steve could think about was Bucky smilng at him as he handed him a bundle of cash and the sound of his whimpering when his bodyguard hit him only seconds later. It haunted him. He barely left his room for two days, didn't go out to work, barely ate, barely spoke to Peggy or Peter. All he could do was spend hours browsing the internet, reading every single article he could find on Bucky, analyse every picture of him, especially the ones that his bodyguard was on, too. And even though he had read most of them before, even though he had seen all these pictures before, he still had to check. Check if he had been blind, if there had been signs, proof that something was going horribly wrong with Bucky.

But no, Buckys's public image made everything about him look as perfect as Steve had assumed it was. There was never a smile out of place, a scandal too shocking, a wrong word. James Barnes, the rockstar was perfect, polished. Even his supposed flaws, his status as a party-animal, his long catalogue of partners, the rumors of his drug use that Steve never used to believe, it all seemed to fit this narrative that they were trying to put out. James Barnes, front man, heartbreaker, rugged, unobtainable and wild.

That's not who Steve saw the other night. Not at all-

"Steve, I'm concerned. ", a voice said and Bucky looked up to find Peggy standing in his doorway. She looked like she was getting ready for work, her long raven hair all done and face glammed up.

Peggy was four years older than Steve and worked as the manager of a strip club she used to dance at. They met four years ago when she was still dancing and Steve was still relatively new to sex work. Steve was at some party, he could barely remember the guy anymore, only that he liked to make him drunk so that Steve wouldn't be so scared. There were girls there, too, some just to dance, others for more, like Steve.

Steve didn't know why Peggy came into the bedroom, why she cared. All he knew was that someone had just fucked him and hadn't cared when Steve asked him to stop and now he was tired and miserable and hurt all over and he felt so goddamn alone and pathetic and then there she was sitting by the bed and she looked beautiful and sad and she touched his cheek and Steve realized that she was wiping away tears that he hadn't noticed had started to spill. She asked him what his name was, his real one, how old he was, really.

Steve was honest with her and she in turn with him and somehow they became friends along the way. There were few people he trusted as much as he trusted her, but even then, he hadn't told her about Bucky. He had told her about loosing the love of his life, of getting his heart broken, but he never used names. Nobody knew about Bucky.

"About what?", He only asked, pulling his eyebrows into a frown, feigning ignorance. He was well aware that he was acting like a spooked animal, that didn't mean that he was ready to explain why.

"About you, you moron.", Peggy returned sharply, crossing her arms over her chest. She had a posh British accent but was quick to start cursing when she was upset with something or someone. Most of the time Steve was the one to upset her, he had this gift for hurting the people he cared about. She worried to much about him. They all did.

"After everything you and I have been through, this is the thing that concerns you. ", He smirked, trying to get her to back off.

Peggy wouldn't back off, though. He should've known that it wouldn't be that easy. "Two days ago you came home with an obscene amount of money and dressed in Nike sweatpants that aren't yours. Now you spend two days researching some randome singer like your life depends on it. On my laptop, might I add. ", She pointed out.

"Make it make sense.", a second voice chimed in. Peter had apparently decided to join the discussion, showing up in the doorway as well.

He was the youngest of them, barely 18. Peggy and Steve didn't know much about how such a sweet kid like Peter ended up doing what they were doing. All they knew was that Steve met Peter at a corner they were both working last February and that Peter looked like he was starving and like he was coming down with pneumonia and Steve knew what that was like so he asked him where he was staying and when he couldn't give him a straight answer Steve took him home with him and since then he was here. They tried talking to him, tried figuring out if he had family, if he had anyone else he could turn to. They tried to get him to tell them why he was on his own, if he got kicked out or if he ran away. They even tried to get him to stop working, maybe go back to school, a suggestion he didn't like at all.

But Peggy and Steve knew that they had to try, as best as they could, because Peter was so goddamn young and they knew how easy it was to get stuck in this life. But the boy refused any kind of help accept for the room he paid rent for every month and the job helping out at the strip club he begrudgingly accepted. They had to put up with that and just be there for him when he needed them.

"It's complicated.", Steve replied, not managing to hold back a sigh.

"Did James Barnes rent you for a night?", Peter asked, cutting the crap and getting right down to what they were both thinking.

"Did one of his band mates? Wade Wilson maybe?", Peggy added, giving Peter a knowing smile.

"I'm not sure what would be more scandalous!", Peter smirked before adding with a cheeky grin:" If it's Wilson, you need to introduce me. If it's Barnes I need details. I bet his dick is big, I just know it."

"It's not that! Okay?!", Steve snapped, sharper than intended. He couldn't help it, he couldn't take them talking about Bucky like that, like just another John. Peter's grin dropped and he flinched back slightly, making Steve regret his temperament immediately. "Fuck-", he whispered under his breath, burying his face in his hands.

"You're really messed up over this...", Peggy stated carefully. It wasn't phrased as a question but Steve still felt like it warranted an answer.

"I- I saw something messed up and... Now I don't know what to do.", He admitted, looking up at them. This was okay, he wasn't giving away too much information.

Peggy stared at him for a long moment, her expression thoughtful and closed off. Then she asked:"Are you in danger because of it?"

Steve thought about it for a moment. He was relatively sure that the bodyguard hadn't known about his presence in Bucky's apartment. He should be fine. Bucky was the one who was in danger. "No. I don't think so.", He replied.

"Are we?", Peggy continued to ask.

"No.", He replied, more certain this time, they weren't involved in this at all and he'd keep it that way.

"Then it's not your responsibility.", Peggy shrugged simply and Steve wasn't surprised by this reaction. Peggy was pragmatic and entirely about self preservation. That wasn't exclusive to her, she was fiercely protective of the people she saw as her own but the list of those wasn't very long. Steve and Peter were at the top of that list, followed by Sam, the owner and co-manager of her strip club and her girls, the women that danced at her club. Peggy would gladly let the rest of the world burn if that meant she'd get to keep them all safe.

"Peggy!", Peter exclaimed, appalled. He was more empathetic than her, caring about everyone's well being, even that of strangers. That was the difference between them. Peggy only cared about the people that she viewed as deserving of it, the people she trusted. Peter cared about everyone as long as they didn't give him a good reason not to. Steve didn't know which way was the right one, only that nobody could hurt Peggy unless she permitted it and Peter's way left him an easy target for abuse.

"Guys?", Steve tried to interrupt them, sensing an argument coming.

"What? You know I'm right! Why get sucked into something that doesn't concern you in the slightest?!", Peggy snapped.

"Maybe because of morals and stuff?", Peter argued.

"Guys.", Steve tried again, wiping his hand over his face.

"What if it puts him in danger? What if he saw something he was not supposed to?", Peggy debated but Peter just rolled with his eyes.

"You're making-", he started to protest but Steve cut them both off.

"Guys!", He yelled out and they dropped their fight, focusing on him again.

"Sorry. You were saying?", Peter asked with an apologetic smile.

"I was saying nothing. I can't talk about this.", Steve stated, hoping that they would finally drop the topic.

"Are you sure? ", Peggy asked, her voice softer again.

"Yeah.", He nodded before closing all the tabs and turning the laptop off. "I'll just figure something out myself. ", He added as he got up and made his way past them to get to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?", Peggy called after him.

"I'm getting ready for work.", Steve replied. He had hidden away for long enough.

~

"Hey Stevie!", Lory, an older lady greeted him warmly. Lory was somewhere in her late 30s and worked this corner for as long as Steve went here. She was tiny and deinty and her skin was so tanned that it looked a little like leather. Steve didn't mind her, she was always in a good mood and wasn't territorial at all and she knew which Johns were safe and which ones you should avoid better than anyone around.

"Hello, Lory. What's up?", Steve smiled back. He buried his hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans, shifting around and bouncing on the balls of his feet to warm up somewhat. The October air was turning harsher by the day and Steve was barely protected from the wind in his flimsy jacket and crop top.

"Y' were missed 'round here.", Lory drawled, she had a deep raspy voice from chain smoking and an accent that Bucky couldn't place. He never asked where she was from, people in their line of business rarely wanted to share personal details.

"I was here two days ago.", He pointed out. He went back to the place where he met Bucky on purpose, a part of him hoped that Bucky would return for him.

"Yeah but yesterday ya had a pretty boy askin' for ya.", Lory explained and Steve's heart skipped a beat.

"What did he look like?", He asked, his mouth dry all of a sudden.

"Tall, brunette with long hair, build like a shelf. Couldn't get a good look at his face though. He wore a cap.", Lory replied and Steve was convinced that it had been him. Bucky had come looking for him, he head asked for him, he-

"What did he say?", He asked next.

"He asked if ya worked the corner regularly.", Lory shrugged.

"And what did you reply?"

"That ya show up whenever ya please, ya tramp.", Lory smirked and Steve knew that she ment well, that she'd never tell a guy that he was here regularly because if it was someone dangerous they could find him more easily. "Okay, thanks.", He mumbled. He still wished that Bucky knew that he could find him here if he needed to.

Apparently that was unnecessary, because not even half an hour later a flaming red Porsche with tinted windows pulled up next to him opening the drivers window just a crack. "Are you Steve Rogers?", a deep, smooth female voice asked, rattling something in Steve. Except for Peggy and Peter nobody knew his last name, all his customers only knew him as Steve.

"Who's asking?", He asked, trying to see inside but not seeing more than a pair of somewhat familiar green eyes.

A moment of silence followed and then the window opened entirely and Steve found himself staring in the face he had secretly loathed for the last couple of years. "You're Natasha Romanoff!", He exclaimed. Bucky's pianist and ex girlfriend was gorgeous, sure. Steve might be gay but he wasn't blind. But she was gorgeous in the way that a weapon was. She was made of sharp edges and harsh contrasts, shades of black, white and red, piercing eyes and bloody lips. She was bold and sharp and deadly and Steve was terrified of her.

"Yeah, scream it out, why don't you!", She snarled, rolling with her eyes before pointing one of her perfectly manicured red claws at the passenger seat. " Get in the car.", She ordered and Steve couldn't help but to comply.

Steve had barely sat down before she had started to car up again, speeding away. She wasn't looking at him, her eyes trained on the road, her face a perfectly neutral mask. "Where- what- How did you- Why?", Steve stuttered, staring at her.

"Let me help you.", She interrupted him, sounding like she really didn't want to help him. "Why do you know who I am? How did you know where to find me? Where are you taking me? Right?", She mimicked his voice and Steve had half the sense that he should be offended but he was still too shocked.

"Yeah?", He breathed out.

"The answer to those questions is James.", Natasha replied, no particular tone to her voice.

"Bucky told you about me?", Steve realized that once again, Steve hadn't lied. He had searched for him and told people about him and he hadn't given up Steve. Not how Steve had. The realisation hurt, it ached and ached endlessly and there was no getting used to it.

"Of course...", Natasha smirked but it was a bitter and ugly sound. "You seem unaware of the shadow you're casting on every relationship James ever had.", She then added and Steve thought that she might be trying to be cruel but Steve was too stuck in his own head to feel it.

"What do you mean?", He asked instead.

"Don't act stupid.", She spat before quickly collecting herself and putting up a smile. She didn't look at him, not even a glance. Like she couldn't face him. She looked like she was in pain. "You're _the_ Steve. The love of James' life and even though he'd never say it... Everyone who came after... we're all just consolation prices. So, yeah, I know about you."

Steve was suddenly hit with the realization that Natasha Romanoff not only knew about him, but hated him. And not in the way you hate a person you actually know, not because of his personality or anything. No, she hated him in the exact same way he hated her. The way that a scorned wife hates her husband's mistress. Steve always hated Natasha because he couldn't be her, couldn't have what she had. Apparently she felt exactly the same.

"Are you're taking me to him? Why?", He asked, because it didn't make sense to him. If she hated him for who he used to be to Bucky, why bring him back to him.

"Because apparently you reunited recently and even though he won't tell me what the fuck happened, he's a wreck now, so you're going to fix it.", She replied, her voice strained, her grip on the steering wheel was so tight that her knuckles turned white. At least her worry for Bucky seemed to outway her hatred for Steve. It was a start, it was enough for Steve to dismiss all thoughts of her for now.

He focused on Bucky instead. Bucky who was apparently a wreck, Bucky who he was supposed to fix now. To be honest, Steve was more and more convinced that Bucky's current state, whatever it was, had less to do with Steve and more with the abusive bodyguard he was apparently sleeping with. And he had no idea how he was supposed to fix that.

"This isn't Bucky's building. ", Steve pointed out when they stopped in front of something that looked like an old factory building that got renovated into a hip brownstone.

"No shit. It's ours.", Natasha stated, putting the car in park and getting out. Steve quickly followed her as she led him inside. He suddenly felt even more out of place as he watched her strutt in front of him. She was wearing a short skin tight red dress with a slit for one of her legs, fishnets, a black fur coat and a pair of these special edition Doc martens. She reeked of money and high society. Steve just reeked of the last guy he sucked off.

She led him through a barren hallway, up some stairs until she unlocked a door and they stepped into a huge loft. It looked nice, personal, not like Steve's place. It had warm lights and colorful purposely mismatched furniture, a cozy sitting area, an open kitchen that looked like it got actually used by people and there was a bunch of music instruments spread all over the place. Steve could hear music playing somewhere. This was a home, a place people actually lived. Bucky's place had been a display.

"Is this him?", A warm female voice with a thick russian accent spoke up and Steve turned just in time to see Wanda Maximoff, bassist of the Winter Soldiers, leaving the kitchen. Wanda was about as tall as Natasha and looked like she could be her sister. Her long red hair was only a few shades lighter than Natasha's and her skin was just pearly white and flawless but her smile was much broader and realer. "Hey, it's Wanda, and Wade is-", she introduced herself before looking around for the missing member of their band, Wade the drummer.

"Was just checking on Dracula.", Wade finished, entering the living space through one of the doors on the other side of the room. Wade Wilson was an interesting sight because even though he was the youngest member of the band, only 20 years old, not even of legal drinking age, he was covered in tattoos from head to toe. Like, all of it, even his face and scalp were covered in stark black ink, painting the face of a skeleton. It was hard to tell what his actual facial features even were. But he seemed amused when he spotted Steve. "Wow, the infamous Steve Rogers. You might not know it but you're the reason why we have a no-love-songs policy for James's song writing. ", He joked and Steve couldn't help but to frown, noticing how none of them called him Bucky. Hearing everyone refer to him by Bucky's first name was stage. All of this was beyond strange.

This was too much, they were all too much. Bucky's life was rapidly colliding with his and Steve couldn't handle it, couldn't handle standing here among these literal rock stars, pretending that he wasn't entirely out of place.

"Where is he?", He just asked. He was here for Bucky, nothing else.

"In his room. ", Wade replied, pointing back at the door that he just came through.

Steve didn't wait for an invitation, he just headed for the door and didn't stop until he could close it behind him. The first thing that he noticed in Bucky's room was the smell, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and something sour, like someone had vomited. Steve's eyes needed a moment to adjust to the darkness. Only then could he make out the shapes in the dark room. There was a big bed across from the door, a dresser, a desk, a guitar leaning against the wall, a bucket, that's where the smell was coming from.

Bucky was laying in the bed, face down, back turned towards Steve. He looked like he was sleeping.

"Buck?", He asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Fuck off Wade.", Bucky groaned, his voice rough and muffled by the pillows.

"It's Steve.", Steve said, a little louder than before.

He could see Bucky tense up before starting to move. He sat up and reached for his nightstand, turning on a lamp and suddenly Steve was looking at Bucky again. Steve who looked so much worse than he had two days ago. He looked like he hadn't slept a second since then. His eyes were red and swilled, his skin pale and ashy, his eyebags almost looked like bruises.

"Are you real?", He asked, his voice cracking. Something about him was wrong. He was moving weirdly, kind of lethargic, like the world was turning and he was trying to keep balance.

"Flesh and bone.", Steve replied but he didn't move, he stayed pressed against the door, it smelled like booze in here, booze and cigarettes and puke.

"I kind of convinced myself that you were a fever dream. ", Bucky smirked before wincing slightly and pressing the balls of his hands to his eyes.

"Are you drunk?", Steve asked, his voice shakier than he would've liked. He couldn't help it, intoxicated men made him nervous, no matter who they were, even if it was just Bucky.

"Not anymore. Hungover. ", Bucky explained, shifting in the bed until he could place his feet on the floor again. He reached for his nightstand again and rummaged through the drawer until he found what he was looking for. An orange pill container. "I kinda thought that I didn't feel those anymore.", He added as he shook out a couple of pills that he swallowed dry before tossing the container back into the drawer and looking to Steve again.

Steve couldn't place the expression on Bucky's face, a painful realization when he used to know Bucky better than he knew himself. He looked tired but also somehow relieved, like he was happy to see Steve. It was a start.

"Buck... What's going on with you?", Steve sighed daring to actually get closer now. He walked over to the bed, sat down at the end of it, watching Bucky intently.

"Nothing.", Bucky shrugged, whatever positive emotion was on his face before, it was gone now, his expression closed off, his eyes trailed to the floor.

"Don't bullshit me. I was there. I heard you. I heard what he-", Steve tried to argue.

"It's nothing-", Bucky repeated shaking his head slightly but Steve wasn't having it. He spend the last two days thinking about nothing else. It played in his mind on a loop. The person that was supposed to protect Bucky, hitting him and Bucky begging him to fuck him.

"Bucky, he's abusing you!", Steve burst out and the expression on Bucky's face quickly became alarmed.

"Shh- don't be so loud!", He shushed Steve, looking to the door as if he expected someone to burst in.

"They don't know?", Steve asked. He hadn't considered this yet but assuming that this wasn't a one time thing, which it didn't seem to be, how was it possible that no one had noticed? Bucky gave him a look that Steve couldn't read, then he bit his lip and shook his head. "Bucky, they're your friends! Aren't they?", Steve argued. If he was getting hurt, if he had people who care about him, why wouldn't he reach out for help?!

"Yes, which is why they can't know.", Bucky insisted but it just didn't make sense to Steve. Bucky was a rock star, he could just fire Brock, right? And he could definitely sue him, Steve was sure that he had good lawyers. Unless...

Unless Bucky was more messed up than Steve had imagined. He didn't know how long this had been going on, how much Brock might've manipulated Bucky. He didn't want to picture it, didn't want his mind to go there but maybe Brock had managed to twist Bucky's worldview in a way that made him think that this was normal.

"How long has this been going on?", Steve asked, he needed more information on the situation to get a better understanding on how severe the damage was.

Bucky dared to groan and roll with his eyes, as if Steve was being annoying. "Nothing is going on. Brock was pissed off because I was being an ass. We had a fight and I just ditched. I'm not supposed to do that. ", He explained and the blasé way in which he talked about it made Steve's skin crawl. Like this was normal, like Bucky deserved it.

"Are you seriously blaming this on yourself right now?", Steve asked, his mouth dry.

"Steve, I can handle him.", Bucky waved him off, still refusing to acknowledge how seriously messed up the situation was.

"Like you handled it the other night?! Bucky, you're aware that I'm a hooker. I know what it looks like when you let someone fuck you because you're scared that they'll hurt you. " Steve didn't mean to say that. He felt like maybe he gave away too much of himself with that. The stricken expression that crossed Bucky's face seemed to confirm that but Steve didn't have the time to regret it. He said what he is said, he ment it. The truth was, when he listened to how Brock spoke to Bucky, how Bucky responded... it felt like Steve was right there in his place, because he knew exactly what it felt like.

But apparently Bucky didn't see it that way. "We're not the same.", He only stated and Steve couldn't help but feel a pang of anger at that.

"Oh what? Are you better than me now because you're not getting paid for it?!", Steve snapped, unable to hold it back. He wasn't proud of what he was doing but that didn't mean that he'd just let everyone shit all over him.

Bucky seemed to notice his mistake because he quickly took it back."No... I'm not. And I don't think that. All I'm saying is that I'm not fucking scared of Brock. I just know how to calm him down. "

Steve stared at him, his anger dissolving. Bucky stared right back and it felt a little like looking at a ghost. The other night Steve had been dazzled by Bucky's new life. He only saw all the ways in which Bucky had been polished, now all he saw was the flip side of that. Yes, Bucky had been made over into the perfect rock star, that much was true. He was James fucking Barnes. But Steve could see all that got lost along the way, all the pieces they cut off and discarded. And now, in the dim light of the lamp, Steve couldn't see James fucking Barnes and he couldn't see his Bucky either. All he saw was a shadow. "Who did this to you Bucky? What happened to you? Why are you like this?", He whispered, his throat tight all of a sudden.

Bucky didn't look at him when he spoke, he hunched his shoulders forward and stared out the window. "Nothing happened. I did this to myself.", He then whispered, sounding hollow.

"I don't believe you. ", Steve returned and Bucky let out a heavy sigh, looking to Steve again. It seemed like he was trying to put up a brave front and smile but it just broke Steve's heart even more.

"Steve, I swear, I'm fine. ", He said, sounding lightyears away from fine.

"You're fucking lying to yourself.", Steve whispered, more to himself than Bucky.  
"Bucky, you need to fire him.", He then started, addressing him directly again.

"I can't. ", Bucky said, getting up and turning his back on Steve. He was hiding away, Steve could tell.

"Yes you can. ", He insisted.

"He'll kill me. ", Bucky whispered, still not facing Steve and just like the other night, there was such certainty in his voice that it scared Steve. What could Bucky be possibly so terrified of?

"No. If you let him stay he'll kill you.", Steve returned, because that's what he was scared of. That's how these things usually went, they escalated until someone went too far and the consequences were fatal. Steve had lost more than one person this way, in his profession people turned up dead all the time, or they just disappeared one day. He hadn't thought that something like this could happen to someone like Bucky but if he was already fearing for his life...

"Steve, I can't afford to fire Brock.", Bucky insisted, turning around to face Steve again. He was being stubborn but Steve couldn't blame him for that, not when he could see the fear in his eyes. That didn't mean that he could comprehend it.

Steve got up as well now and stepped closer to Bucky, just stopping short of grabbing a hold of him. Even though that's what he wanted to do. Even though he wanted to hold and shake and Bucky and demand to know what's was going on here. "Why? What's stopping you? He's your bodyguard, you're his employer, not the other way around.", He pointed out and Bucky avoided his eyes, looking around the room frantically. Bucky just opened his mouth like he was about to say something when the door to the bedroom opened and Natasha stepped in.

"It's Pierce. And he's pissed.", She stated, looking to Bucky and extending a hand with a telephone for him.

A resigned expression settled on Bucky's expression as he accepted the phone from her before he looked at Steve again.   
"Could you wait outside?"

Steve did as he was told and followed Natasha outside again, the bedroom door falling shut behind him.

Back in the living room the energy was all kinds of awkward. Steve's life was so far away from all of theirs that he couldn't imagine that there was any other overlap except for Bucky and he was sure that they could tell as well. Natasha knew where to find him so Bucky probably told them what he was. Steve was honestly a little surprised that they were even tolerating him. None of them seemed to know what to say so they all just stood around in silence.

"Sick Crop Top. ", Wade eventually said, seemingly sick of the quiet tension.

Steve looked over at the other man, trying to gage if he was being mocked but once again Wade's tattoos made it pretty impossible to read his facial expressions. "Are you making fun of me?", Steve eventually asked.

"No, I'm being genuine.", Wade returned and this time he smiled widely showing his real teeth instead of the ones that were painted onto his lips. "So you're the guy that screwed up a perfectly good himbo.", He then added, clear amusement in his voice.

"I didn't screw him up. ", Steve spoke through gritted teeth, burying his hands in the pockets of his pants.

"Relationship wise you definitely did. Just ask Tascha. ", Wanda chimed in.

"Fuck off.", Natasha snapped at her before letting herself drop onto the couch.

"Why? What was he like in a relationship?", Steve interrupted. As much as he wasn't enjoying his interactions with Bucky's friends, he needed as much information on the last 5 years of Bucky's life as he could get.

Natasha considered Steve for a moment, her eyes like daggers. Then she sighed, letting her head fall back. "This will make me sound like an asshole-", she groaned.

"More then you already do?", Wade smirked, not caring about the deadly looks Natasha was throwing his way.

"-but as much as I love James as a friend, because he's great at that, he sucks as a boyfriend. Like... I'm not surprised that no one sticks around for longer than a month.", Natasha continued.

"Yeah, Natasha stuck around longer than anyone except... Maybe you. ", Wanda nodded.

"What does he do, though?", Steve asked, trying to swallow his anger and frustration. It bothered him how they talked about him. The Bucky Steve used to know didn't deserve that. Then again, by now it was pretty clear that Bucky had changed. A lot.

"His heart is just not in it.", Natasha sighed with a shrug. "It's all pretend. He plays the perfect boyfriend without ever actually letting you close to him. When he goes through something he doesn't talk to you but just goes AWOL for a while, he gets fucked up and refuses to explain himself. He'd come home bloody sometimes and refused to tell me why. Other times I felt like there was someone else. All in all being with him just makes you feel lonely. ", She went on to explain. Steve wanted to hate her, he wanted to believe that she was just being bitter and lying because of it. But he could see her sadness, her grief, her heartache. He could tell that she cared about Bucky, even though she had been hurt by him.

Steve didn't know what to say. In the end it didn't matter. The bedroom door opened and Bucky joined them. He had changed into a t-shirt, jeans and a leather jacket by now and his expression looked empty. 

"Hey, I'm sorry. Pierce is calling me in. I need to go. ", He stated, already making his way over to the door where he picked up a pair of boots that he started to put on.

"At this time?", Steve asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. It was past 10 pm already.

"Yes.", Bucky only nodded, not looking at Steve. Steve couldn't help it, he couldn't let Bucky just walk away again. He approached him cautiously before asking:"Can I talk to you in private for a second before you leave?"

Bucky hesitate for a moment before straightening up again and giving Steve a nod. "Yeah, come on."

He then led Steve to the exit of the loft and left with nothing more than a single 'bye' to his friends.

Once they were outside in the hallway again Bucky started to walk so quickly that Steve needed a second to catch up with him. It was almost like he was trying to run away from him.

"Your friends are fucking blind.", Steve stated, trying to get Bucky to actually talk to him again.

"Yeah, because I keep them that way.", Bucky returned, keeping his tone clipped. He was staring straight ahead, his jaw looked tense, like he was clenching his teeth.

Steve trailed after him until they stepped out onto the street and for a moment it looked like Bucky would just keep walking so Steve finally reached out, grabbing a hold of Bucky's arm and stopping him in his tracks.

"Bucky, before you go, give me your phone.", Steve ordered before Bucky could object, before he could flee again.

Bucky looked back at him, his expression closed off before reluctantly pulling out his phone and handing it to Steve.

Steve realized that it was a new one since the last one went dead in a glass of water two days ago.

He quickly typed in his number and address before handing it back to Bucky.  
"Here's my address and my phone number. If anything happens, if he even touches you wrong, if you need a place to stay I need you to call me. Or you can just drop by. ", He explained, squeezing Bucky's shoulder and trying to get him to look him in the eyes.

Bucky was avoiding him at first but eventually he looked up, grey eyes meeting blue. "Steve, I'll be fine.", He stated and it sounded like a lie. A lie he had told way too many times.

"I don't fucking believe you. And this isn't over yet. ", Steve insisted. He had seen enough, he couldn't just lock away his memories of Bucky again. He couldn't just pretend that they had never known each other. He had to do something, he had to fix this.

Bucky smiled in that heartbreaking way of his and then he stepped away. "Goodbye, Steve."


	4. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay... I don't know what happened at the end of the chapter there, this kind of just tumbled out of me??? I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Also, there is heavily implied sexual and domestic abuse in this but nothing graphic. Another warning for non-consensual drug use and internalised victim-blaming and Bucky just being a gigantic mess in general.
> 
> Leave a comment with your thoughts! Nothing motivates me more than reading them!

Steve didn't hear from Bucky for almost two weeks after that. Not until one rainday Sunday night. Peggy was free that night and both Peter and Steve decided to stay in as well. Steve was still pretty sore from a customer from the previous night who was quite rough with him so he didn't mind the break. The three of them settled on a movie-night, re-watching the Harry Potter movies. Peggy was sitting on the couch with Steve's head in her lap while Peter curled up in an armchair. It was peaceful, warm, safe. And then Steve heard a noise outside the door. Like someone bumping against it.

"Did you hear that?", He asked, twisting his head to look to the door.

"Sounded like someone kicked our door.", Peter remarked, looking over as well.

"Just ignore it.", Peggy shrugged before taking a handful of chips and eating it.

Steve redirected his attention to the TV until he heard someone knocking against the door.

"Was that a knock?", Peter asked, looking back at the door again.

"We're not waiting for anyone, are we?", Peggy asked, a frown forming on her face.

Then it happened again. A knock, or rather a pound and this time Steve sat up, alarmed. "Definitely a knock.", He remarked, looking at Peggy. They had problems like this in the past, of customers following then and figuring out where they lived, showing up randomly.

"Get the bat.", Peggy stated and Steve jumped up, getting their bat from beside the apartment door and getting in position in front of it. He pulled Peter behind him and handed him his phone in case they needed to call for help and Peggy went across the room for the pepper spray. When they were all ready Steve opened the door and...

It was Bucky, sitting in the doorframe, barely upright, with blood running down his face and his eyes barely open. "Steve?", He croaked, his voice sounding rough and slurred.

"Bucky?!"Steve gasped, immediately dropping the bat and crouching down to check on Bucky. He carefully cupped Bucky's face with his hands, tilting his head back a little to get a better look at him. The blood was coming from his brow that was split open and his eye was definitely swollen and would bruise quite nastily. Steve was more concerned with the fact that Bucky seemed to be barely conscious.

"What the fuck?! ", Peter exclaimed behind Steve but Steve had no time for this.

"Didn't know where else to go-", Bucky mumbled, his voice barely working. He sounded weird, like he wasn't quite there and also like speaking caused him pain.

"Steve, what the bloody hell is going on?!" That was Peggy now, sounding quite freaked out, which was a rarity with her. Steve paid neither of them any attention, moving to pick Bucky up and drag him into the apartment. He was completely soaked from the rain and he had to be freezing.

"Okay, come on...", He mumbled, more to himself than Bucky. He wasn't sure of how much Bucky was actually aware of anymore.

"Steve?!", Peggy exclaimed once he turned towards her and Peter again. They both looked beyond confused and shocked but Steve didn't have time for that right now.

"Give me a minute! I'll explain it to you once I've gotten him out of the rain.", He promised before pushing past them, dragging Bucky to the couch and dropping him there.

"Didn't wanna bother you-", Bucky slurred, laying his head back and looking at Steve through a slim crack between his eyelids.

"What the hell happened to you?", Steve asked softly, taking in the injury above his eye a little closer. Then he noticed that Bucky wasn't wearing a jacket, only a sweater and his jeans were unbuttoned, like he hastily pulled his clothes on. Steve felt sick. "Are you on something?", he asked him. He definitely didn't seem to be sober or even lucid.

"Don't know-", Bucky mumbled, his eyes falling shut "- had a drink- don't know what was in it...", He added, barely audible.

"Did Brock do this to you?", Steve asked. He was sure that it was him but he still needed confirmation.

Bucky seemed confused for a moment, then his expression became distraught. "I - was bad...", he whined miserably. Steve's heart ached for him, it seized in his chest. He suddenly felt the violent urge to wrap his hands around Brock Rumlow's throat and strangle every bit of life out of him. He pushed his rage aside, tried to dim the flaming hell inside his head before it could hurt anyone but himself.

"Oh Buck... What the hell-", Steve whispered, taking Bucky's hand into his and squeezing a little. Gentle. He could do that. He could be better than his fury.

"'m sorry...", The other man whispered before his eyes finally fell shut and his body went lax.

"Bucky?", Steve asked, a little alarmed but then Bucky let out a quiet snore. He just fell asleep. Steve let out a relieved sigh before straightening up again and truly facing Peggy and Peter who looked at him like he was absolutely out of his mind.

"Steve. What the fuck is going on?!", Peggy asked sharply. Her voice shook a little, so did her hands. This was bad. Steve always worried her so much.

"Okay...uhm...",Steve stammered, rubbing the back of his head with one of his hands. "You remember the guy I told you about? My high school sweetheart that I lost contact with when I got shipped off to Mississippi?", He then asked carefully.

"Yes?"

"That's him.", Steve nodded, pointing at Bucky.

"You've dated James Barnes?!", Peter skreeched, his eyes wide with shock. Peggy was just staring at Bucky. A little crease had formed between her furrowed eyebrows.

"Yeah, though he used to go by Bucky... I ran into him two weeks ago and he took me home with him. That's where I got the money from-", Steve went on to explain and Peggy's eyes shot up at him.

"He hired you?!", She asked sharply, cutting him off mid-sentence. Steve understood her concern. To her, and to Steve too, if he was being honest, no man who paid for sex, no matter how respectful he seemed to be, could really be decent. They had both had too many bad experiences and even their most gentle customers still usually saw them as a toy and not a person. If that made them bitter, so be it. A healthy dose of bitterness made the heart grow stronger.

"It wasn't like that!", Steve objected before launching into an explanation of what had happened. "He didn't do anything, he just wanted to talk but then his bodyguard showed up and everything got crazy. He has this psycho bodyguard who he's apparently sleeping with, who is totally abusing him but nobody seems to fucking know about it and he won't tell anyone and now...", Steve's voice broke off and he looked down at Bucky's sleeping form. "Now he's here...", he finished, his voice cracking. He felt like falling apart. He couldn't.

A moment of silence followed as Steve contemplated if it had been a mistake to tell his friends the truth. It wasn't really his story to tell but this secret had been driving him nuts the last two weeks and it felt strangely relieving to tell someone else about it. He just wanted someone else to look at the situation and tell Steve that he wasn't crazy. That this was as fucked up as it seemed.

"No wonder you were so messed up over this.", Peggy eventually said, breaking the silence. She then walked around the couch and crouched down in front of Bucky and started to look him over.

"Yeah... He's definitely on something.", She mumbled. Peggy had a lot of experience with drugs in the club-scene. As far as Steve knew she never consumed anything but alcohol but she could identify different kinds of highs like a motherfucker. "Might be roofies... Or just a lot of alcohol but he doesn't smell it. Does he do heroin?", She asked, looking up at Steve.

God, Steve hadn't even thought of that. "I sure hope not.", He mumbled.

Peggy reached for Bucky's face and pulled his eyelids open to take a look at his pupils. "His pupils look normal. Probably not heroin. I still think it would be safest to call an ambulance but I don't know if that's an option?" She looked up at Steve with a questioning look.

"I don't think it is. ", Steve replied. He knew that Bucky was terrified of anyone finding out about what he was going through and if they called an ambulance not only his friends would know but so would the public. He couldn't do that to him. Not if there was the possibility of   
sleeping it off.

"Okay, then just watch his breathing and you should make sure that if he has to vomit that he won't choke on it. If it's booze he might just wake up in a couple of hours with a raging hangover. If it's roofies it might take longer. ", Peggy explained, getting up again and taking a stand next to Steve. 

"How long?",he asked.

Peggy seemed to think on it for a moment, frowning down at Bucky and drumming the tips of her fingers against her lips. "The effects of Rohypnol can last up to 12 hours after consumption but it depends on how much he consumed, if he has a tolerance and his metabolism. The Hangover will definitely be hellish.", She then stated and Steve could feel his own frown deepen.

"And if it's something else?", he asked and Peggy gave him another sharp look.

"I don't know Steve, I'm not a health care professional!", She replied, an edge to her voice that told Steve that she was upset with him. Which usually just ment that he was worrying her. The guilt chewed at him.

"Okay, thanks. I'll just watch him.", He nodded, giving her a grateful smile. Her expression softened a little at that. "Peter can you help me get him in my room?", Steve then asked.

Peter still seemed a little shell shocked by the whole ordeal. He needed a moment to get moving again. He then helped Steve to pick up Bucky's limp body and carry him into Steve's bedroom. They placed him in Steve's bed in the lateral recumbent position to make sure that he couldn't choke if he had to puke.

"This is so surreal...", Peter mumbled, straightening up once they were done.

"I'm sure that I don't have to tell you that no one can know about this.", Steve stated, looking from Peter to Peggy who was standing in his doorframe.

"Obviously.", Peggy nodded but Peter pulled a face.

"So I wasn't supposed to post about this on my insta?", He asked cheekily and while Steve was almost certain that he wasn't serious, he couldn't laugh at that.

"Peter!", Both him and Peggy exclaimed and the younger male held up his hands in defense.

"Kidding! Jeez...", He claimed before turning around and leaving the bedroom. Peggy took the liberty to close the door after him, leaving Steve and Bucky by themselves.

Steve only stared at Bucky for a moment, at the relaxed expression on his face in contrast to the blood running down his cheek. "God... Bucky... What have you gotten yourself into...", Steve whispered, his heart aching.

~

Bucky woke up with a sharp headache and overwhelming nausea and no memory of how he ended up like that. Nothing new then. He opened his eyes a crack and found himself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. So he wasn't at his place, the warehouse loft or in Brock's apartment. Maybe a hotel room?

He sat up even though his entire body, most of all his head, was protesting vehemently. He found that the room around him was spilling so he needed a moment orient himself.

He was definitely not in a hotel room. The room was tiny and a mess. There was a bed, a small clothing rack that was overflowing with clothes, an old scratched up desk that was covered with stacks of books, paint bottles and brushes in cups and an isle with a half finished painting and more painted canvases leaning against the wall behind it. If Bucky hadn't been hungover as hell he might've put two and two together sooner. But since his brain wasn't entire in commission yet, he had no idea where he was.

He looked straight ahead out of the open door, just in time to see a young scrawny guy walk past. The man...or boy, stopped in his tracks, noticing that he was being watched and looked towards Bucky, a wide-eyed expression on his face.

"Where am I? Who are you?", Bucky asked weakly, only now realizing that his throat hurt like a motherfucker. He reached up to his neck only to flinch back in pain when he touched his throat. Someone had choked him. _Great_!

The boy in the doorway seemed to be frozen in shock, then, so slowly that Bucky wondered if he was hungover as well, he opened his mouth before yelling:"Steve!? Your boyfriend is awake!"

Bucky cringed in pain at his loud voice before realizing what the boy just said:"Steve...", he wheezed out, opening his eyes just in time to see Steve rushing into the bedroom. He seemed to come straight from the shower, his hair was still wet, and his whole body was flushed and he was only wearing sweatpants.

"Bucky- Good, you're awake. How are you feeling?", He asked, crouching down in front of the bed. Bucky tried to contain his relief at seeing not only a familiar face but Steve in particular. It felt a little like a dream. Waking up in this familiar nightmare of having no memory of what had happened to him, only for Steve to come in and safe him.

"Where am I? How did I get here?", He asked, straining to make his voice work.

"Rohypnol... Has an amnesiac effect...", a feminine voice said and Bucky looked up to see this gorgeous woman standing in the doorway next to the boy, wearing a morning robe even though her face was perfectly made up and her dark hair was curled into retro-victory curls. She kind of looked like a 50s pin-up girl. Bucky felt like he was in a fever dream.

"What?", He wheezed, feeling overwhelmed. Steve seemed to sense it and took his hand in his, getting Bucky to focus on him again.

"You're in my apartment... You got here last night by yourself. Can you tell me what the last thing you remember was?", he asked and Bucky tried to remember. When he tried to recall the last night he found himself drawing up a blank. It was like his head was filled with fog. He had flashes of memories, music playing, Natasha's laughter, her body against his as he hugged her goodbye, Brock handing him a drink, getting closer, _pain-_

Bucky winced pressing the balls of his hands against his eyes only to notice that one of his eyes was bruised as hell. So that's where the pain came from. Some of it at least.

"Guys... Can you step out?", Steve requested but Bucky could barely hear him.

"Yeah, sure.", The boy said.

"Call if you need anything." That was the woman, or so Bucky thought, his head felt like it was exploding in slow motion.

"Roommates?", Bucky heard himself ask, his broken voice barely above a whisper.

"Friends.", Steve replied softly, closing the door before crouching down in front of Bucky. "How are you feeling?", He asked gently and the look on his face was killing Bucky. He was just so _goddamn good_ and understanding and full of worry and care for Bucky and he had forgotten what that felt like.

It's not like Bucky had no people that cared about him. He had Natasha, Wanda and Wade, he had Brock and Alex. But his band only ever saw the _ragged pieces_ of him, the _shards_ and _spikes_ and _edges_. They didn't get to see the core, didn't see how _soft_ he was inside. They couldn't see it because he wouldn't let them.

And Brock and Alex... They cared about Bucky in a different way. They wanted him to be good and cared about making sure that he did what he was supposed to. They cared in the way that they wouldn't let him mess up too bad, which Bucky thought was also a kind of love.

But Steve's care was innocent and all encompassing. It was safe and familiar and Bucky just wanted to dissolve in the feeling.

"Like my head is splitting open.",he replied with a groan.

"It's the hangover.", Steve stated, eyeing Bucky up and down. He could tell that Steve was freaked out. Anyone would be, if they were in his situation. Bucky couldn't imagine what a shock it must've been to have his ex-boyfriend show up barely conscious in the dead of night, probably collapsing before having the opportunity to explain what the hell had happened.

"Did you change my clothes?", Bucky asked, after realizing that he didn't recognize the pullover and sweatpants he was wearing. The were both warm and comforting and they smelled of Steve.

"Yeah... I'm sorry...", Steve sighed, seeming apologetic. "You were soaked and really cold.", He added.

"It's fine...", Bucky mumbled, shaking his head slightly. It wasn't the first time he woke up not knowing where he was and what had happened to him. It wouldn't be the last. He was just glad that he wasn't naked. That was the worst. "Thank you..."

"Do you remember anything?", Steve asked next, his voice we gentle and careful.

Bucky tried to peer through the fog in his mind once more. The last night came back to him in the tiniest pieces. All he had was scraps. "I was... at my place...I think? We had drinks. Wanda and Nat went home early... I don't know where Wade went. It was just me and Brock... Then..."

This was the part where his voice broke off, because everything else did. Bucky's mind shattered over and over again from the blast of the memories, the agony they caused.

"Did he do this to you?", Steve asked and Bucky was certain that Steve already knew the answer.

He had been moody and standoff-ish. Even as whatever Brock had made him drink started to take effect. Bucky couldn't remember but a part of him thought that it had been because of Steve. Because seeing him had reminded him of who Bucky used to be. It made him forget who he was now. Maybe he hadn't felt like he deserved this, even if only for a moment.

It turned him angry and bratty, which in turn made Brock furious and cruel. He could remember getting punched, Brock's hands around his throat, his hands on his thighs-

Bucky's mind crashed and it crashed hard. It blew up on impact and went up in a blazing inferno. It burned and burned through him until all of Bucky's carefully constructed walls crumbled.

He started to sob, miserably, hysterically. His mother would be shouting at him by now, Brock would be way past using simple words to hurt him. Experience was a cruel teacher and everything Bucky had learned told him that he needed to stop, pull himself together, _behave_.

But he couldn't, his breathing got more and more ragged, his sobs tore through his aching throat, causing even more agony. He could feel the tears run down his cheeks and chin and neck until they gathered at the little dip between his collar bones. Bucky hadn't cried in years, it had been beaten out of him. He thought he had cried all his tears, spend every last one of them, when Steve left, when his mother kicked him out, when his life fell apart. Apparently not. Apparently they had only been gathering and now the dam had broken and there wasn't a _damn_ thing he could do to stop them.

And suddenly there were arms wrapping around him and Bucky's chest constricted in panic at the pain, _the pain, the pain_ that would surely come because it always did. Everything _hurt_ , even the things he loved. Brock loved him and he broke his skin. Bucky loved Nat but he broke her heart. Nobody was save, least of all him.

But then it didn't hurt. The arms weren't violent but gentle, they didn't crush him, didn't rip him apart. They held him together, supported him. Warm and steady and _safe_. Just like Steve had always been.

Bucky clung to him, like his life depended on it. He let Steve wrap him up in this feeling, the feeling of complete trust that had become so foreign to Bucky. He breathed it in and let all his pain tumble out of him.

_An avalanche of agony._

Steve didn't stop him, he just held him and stroked a hand through Bucky's hair, whispering over and over again:"Hey... I'm sorry... It's okay... You're okay... You're save here..."

Bucky didn't know how long they stayed like that, Steve enveloping Bucky while Bucky drained all of the misery out of himself like abscess from an infected wound.

Eventually he stopped crying, too exhausted to carry on anymore. He stopped clinging to Steve like he was all that held him above water. Steve didn't let him sink, though. He still held him, reliable and stable and just _good._

"You must think I'm so pathetic...", Bucky whispered, his voice completely wrecked. It wouldn't have surprised him, if Steve wouldn't have heard him. A part of him wished he didn't. A part of him didn't want the confirmation. He had to seem so weak to him. Steve who had lost so much more than him, Steve who went through hell and still somehow stood tall enough that Bucky could lean on him.

However, it did surprise him when a little chuckle shook through Steve's body. It wasn't happy or amused. It sounded sad. Actually, it sounded _crushed_.

"You? Pathetic? Have you met me?", he asked and there was misery in his voice but also humour. It hadn't swallowed Steve whole. Not like Bucky. Steve had always been a star, bright and unyielding. A long time ago Bucky might've been one, too. But everyone knows what happens to a star when it collapses. It turns into a black hole and that was all that Bucky was now.

Steve started to stroke Bucky's back in circles when he didn't respond anything. The rhythmic motion pulled Bucky out of his head and into his body. "It's not your fault... Okay? And I don't think you're pathetic. I think that you've been hurt, a lot. And that is not your fault. ", Steve then went on, so soft and gentle. Bucky didn't deserve him.

"You don't know that.", Bucky whispered. Steve didn't know that Bucky had sold his soul to the devil, he didn't know how _rotten_ he had become.

"I do... Because I know you.", Steve whispered, his voice suddenly thick, like he was close to tears and Bucky wished that he could see his face but je was also afraid. It might overwhelm him.

"I've missed you a lot...", he then said. The words simply escaped him, so intimate from years of loving Steve like no other. They tasted familiar on his tongue, spoken every time him and Steve were seperated, even if only for a little while.

Bucky envied this past version of himself. That boy knew nothing of _missing_. He knew nothing of _loss_ and _yearning_ and _hunger_. That boy was dead, Bucky had buried him long ago. Now all that was left of him was _hunger_. He craved every shred of decency, every kindness, like a starving man. He wanted to _sink his teeth into all of it_. Bucky never knew how to be gentle.

"I've missed you, too.", Steve whispered back and Bucky devoured it, bathed in the light of Steve's kindness. He tried to suck up every last drop of it. And once again he found himself clinging to the only thing that wouldn't give. Steve, his star, his rock, his life line.

_It had been so long._


End file.
